


as clever and wild as they come

by creativefires



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27629489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativefires/pseuds/creativefires
Summary: Niamh Wilde is quiet and curious but no trouble-maker – not like Fred Weasley. She is creative and smart while he is charismatic and brave. In their first two years at Hogwarts, that all made for a fierce friendship.Entering into their third year, Niamh and her friends are quickly growing up and discovering who they are. Feelings and affections begin to change and the Ravenclaw soon finds herself seeing the Gryffindor in a new light.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

Amongst the students wishing their families farewell, mothers and fathers kissing and embracing their children, a young girl with black, flowing curls and a determined look in her eye, shouldered her way through the crowd. Clutching tight onto her younger brother’s hand, they boarded the train, just as it gave its final warning whistle. They heaved their luggage into the carriage and once the train doors closed, the girl peered out of the window; her brother squeezed in beside her. Their parents blew kisses and shouted farewells, growing smaller while the train pulled out of the platform.

“Niamh!”

She turned around to find two tall, red-haired boys smiling down at her, hands in their pockets. Fred and George Weasley. It had been two months since Niamh had seen the twins and, unless she shrinking, they’d grown at least four inches over the summer break. Fred, the shortest of the two, whose face was rounder and nose shorter, lifted Niamh’s suitcase. Being friends with the pair for two years now, it wasn’t hard to see the difference between them.

“We thought that was you.”

“We knew Roger was lying about your hair turning blue,” said George.

“My hair turning blue?” It took her a few seconds to catch on to what they meant. Over the summer, Niamh, the twins and their friends Roger Davies and Theodora Travers, wrote chain letters to each other, making up small tales about one another that got more and more unbelievable as it went on. According to Roger, Niamh’s hair had turned blue when she ate too many blueberry-flavoured Salt Water Taffys, and apparently, Fred and George filled their whole bedroom with bubbles with Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum. “Oh!”

“Is this your brother?” asked George.

“Matisse,” said the boy, now releasing his hand from his sister’s clutches. It wasn’t difficult to tell they were related, both sporting black hair and brown skin, but Matisse had inherited his father’s green eyes which set them apart.

When everyone had introduced themselves and gotten reacquainted, the twins led Niamh and Matisse to the compartment at the end of the carriage. Inside, their friends Roger and Theo were waiting for them. Like the twins, they had changed quite a bit over the break. Theo had chopped her dark hair to her shoulders, adorning her head with colourful clips, and had decorated her deep brown eyes with blue and orange eyeshadow. Roger’s brown hair had grown longer, his usually pale skin had gone a few shades darker, and he was now starting to fit into the typical, stocky Chaser’s build.

Once they’d put their luggage away and had settled in for the train ride to Hogwarts, they all tried their best to squash any false rumours that were made about them over the summer. Theo affirmed she didn’t have an evil twin sister that would secretly replace her and Roger made sure it was clear that he hadn’t actually had his big toe bitten off by a gnome and swapped it with a wooden one.

“You won’t believe who we just met,” said George as Roger pulled his shoe back on.

“Harry Potter,” said Fred. Roger and Niamh’s eyes widened while Theo and Matisse frowned in confusion. “Helped him get onto the platform.”

“Who’s Harry Potter?” Theo asked.

“The kid whose parents were killed by You-Know-Who,” Roger explained. “The kid who apparently defeated him when he was just a baby.”

Theo shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wringing her hands in her lap. Matisse seemed to have caught on, nodding his head.

“We saw his scar and everything,” George said. Lee Jordan suddenly poked his head into the compartment. He was a friend of Fred and George’s and a fellow Gryffindor. He offered everyone the chance to come and look at his new tarantula but only the twins agreed to go, while the others stayed, promising to meet up once they got to Hogwarts.

“I remember hearing my parents talking about him,” Niamh said once the twins had left. It was true. She’d heard his name whispered and muttered in her parent's hushed conversations at home. Most of what they told her was just that he was the son of some very good friends of theirs. Niamh’s mother never liked to talk about it, always tearing up and leaving the room.

“Eleven years old and already a celebrity, imagine that,” Roger said.

“I don’t know if I’d like to be famous for becoming an orphan at such a young age,” Theo said, crossing her arms.

“He’s famous for surviving and defeating the darkest, most evil wizard in the world, Theo.”

Theo made an ‘oh’ expression as the old lady pushing the lunch trolley arrived at their compartment. They bought themselves a few sweets and some extras for Fred and George.

“Hey, I got Merlin,” Matisse said excitedly, showing his sister the card from his Chocolate Frog. Before he had a chance to eat his frog, it leapt off his lap and onto Niamh’s. She captured it and passed it back to Matisse. 

“My brother Chester and I played Quidditch all summer to prepare for this year,” Roger explained with his mouth full of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. As expected after combining as many flavours as he could fit in his mouth, he spat them out in disgust. “Gross! He works at the Ministry of Magic so he couldn’t play with me all holidays but he told me all about the Porskoff Ploy move. I’ll teach you that one, Niamh.”

“I didn’t even think to practice,” Niamh said solemnly. She’d been avoiding thinking about Quidditch all summer after not making the team last year. She took a large bite out of her pumpkin pasty and eyed the brown and white owl sitting on Theo’s lap, pecking at seeds in her hand. “Did you get a new owl, Theo?”

“Yeah, I had to; Elm kept failing to deliver my letters by just flying in circles. We’re keeping her at home and every now and then we’ll give her a piece of parchment and let her do laps around the house so she feels she’s still important.” She gently patted the new owl on its head. “Glimfeather is doing a much better job.”

“Glimfeather?” Roger asked, side-glancing at Niamh. She shrugged.

“From Narnia.”

Pretending as if that’s what made them understand the reference in the name, they nodded along. Theo was a half-blood witch; her father was a wizard but died when Theo was a child, so she was raised by her Muggle mother. Theo’s many Muggle references usually flew over Niamh’s head but she was nonetheless fascinated by them. In their first year, Theo introduced Niamh to all her favourite Muggle bands and they’d stay up some nights listening to them on Theo’s Walkman.

Niamh received a very disgruntled noise from the seat beside her. She peered into the cage and saw the yellow eyes of her black cat Cobweb glaring at her. She let him out of his cage and, now happy with his freedom, curled up onto her lap and purred. The rest of the train ride was spent with Theo showing Niamh and Roger the entirety of The Smith’s discography while Matisse kept his head in his book ‘ _Hogwarts: A History_ ’.

* * *

The castle was always a wonder to behold. It sat tall upon the Black Lake, surrounded by mountains and thick forests, lights from within gave it a warm glow that filled all students with a sense of comfort and excitement. It felt well and truly like home.

Once changed into their robes, all students were in attendance for the Start-of-Term feast in the Great Hall. Dark clouds, bright glittering stars and floating candles decorated the ceiling. Below, four rows of pointed black hats lined the Hall, each row representing each House; Gryffindor, where Fred and George were sitting; Slytherin; Hufflepuff; and Ravenclaw, Niamh’s house. Theo and Roger sat opposite her at the table, peering over her head while the first-years entered the Hall for their sorting ceremony. All eyes were on the small boy with messy black hair and round glasses – the famous Harry Potter. Niamh met Fred’s eyes across the crowd. He pointed to Harry, mouthing something Niamh couldn’t understand and gave her a thumbs up.

“What?!” she hissed. Her eyes suddenly caught sight of Matisse as he filed in behind the other first years. He gazed at the ceiling in amazement, a look similar to Niamh’s when she first started at Hogwarts.

The Sorting Ceremony began and it seemed all students were watching intently, trying to get a good look at The Boy Who Lived. He was sorted into Gryffindor, causing a loud cheer from the table of red and gold and they welcomed him with open arms. Niamh saw Fred shaking his hand as he sat down, a wide grin on his freckled face. When it was Matisse’s turn, everyone had since stopped paying close attention, except for Niamh. The hat fell down past his eyebrows and he had to look up to see the rest of the students. Niamh became worried when the hat took a few minutes to make its decision. Just like when Theo was being sorted, almost four minutes passed before it decided.

“Ravenclaw!”

The table of blue and bronze roared with applause and cheers. Matisse leapt off the stool and was eagerly welcomed by his fellow Ravenclaws. Niamh leaned down the table and pinched his cheek, making him squirm and wave her hand away.

The feast began. Dishes of roast lamb, roast potatoes, sausages, peas, carrots, Yorkshire puddings, gravy and more decorated the tables, filling the Hall with magnificent smells. Niamh piled her plate, her eyes bigger than her stomach, and enjoyed her dinner with her friends. Every so often she’d turn around and peer through the assembly of students to look at Harry Potter. He was sitting beside the twin’s youngest brother Ron Weasley, chattering away and enjoying every bit of food he could fit onto his plate. She could imagine he’d be the talk of the school for a while; every student would want to look at him, to look at the scar that Voldemort had given him. Niamh supposed it was all very exciting to have a celebrity in their midst, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

Tired and their bellies full, students returned to their common rooms for the evening. Niamh and Theo stayed up, discussing their new classes and looking through their new textbooks. There was a lot to be excited about for Niamh’s third year at Hogwarts. Not only was she to start her new elective classes, and go on her first Hogsmeade trip, but she also had another chance at joining the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Her confidence had been knocked since last years failed attempt but she loved the sport so much, she didn’t want to waste the opportunity to try. Of course, Roger wouldn’t let her back out, so there was no point in even considering it.

They had soon dozed off in front of the fire until Roger found them and told them to go to bed. Niamh tiredly pulled on her pyjamas, slipped into her warm bed, and listened to the rain on the window until it lulled her into a deep, dream-filled sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Niamh’s first month back at Hogwarts couldn’t have started off on a more exciting note. Within the first week, Niamh and a few of her classmates were in the hospital wing, nursing minor burns on various parts of their bodies. Their Care of Magical Creatures professor, Silvanus Kettleburn, who had more missing limbs than existing ones (which should have been warning enough of how dangerous his classes were) started teaching his class about Ashwinders. Students had to freeze the snakes' eggs before they caught fire, via a freezing spell; a spell which hadn’t yet been taught to third years. Niamh, George and Roger compared the size of their burns, showing them off before Madam Pomfrey slathered on a magical ointment that healed them within minutes. Despite the risks she took by simply attending Care of Magical Creatures, she enjoyed the class very much.

Niamh chose Muggle Studies as her second elective; all of Theo’s Muggle references had begun to rub off on her. She was curious to learn how Muggles lived without magic, but she was most excited to learn about their art. It was unusual that none of their paintings moved as they did in the wizarding world, a shame really, as some of the paintings were so beautiful they deserved to become even more alive. Nevertheless, as she had hoped, Niamh was inspired and spent her time implementing their ideas into her own drawings.

A little over two years now at Hogwarts and her sketchbook was almost full. In her first year, Niamh copied down practically every corner of the castle in an attempt to concrete it into her memory. She made sketches of the Whomping Willow, the Quidditch pitch, the greenhouses, and many of her interpretations of the various paintings around the castle; a few portraits even posed for her. And even now, entering into her third year, she was still discovering something new about the castle and its mysteries. 

“How can Professor Kettleburn expect us to enjoy our classes when he’s almost killing us every single lesson?” Roger said as he finished off his tea. Him, Niamh and Theo were sitting in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. It was their first weekend in Hogsmeade and, much to Roger’s displeasure, the girls wanted to have a break with some tea before finishing off their exploring. The shop was frilly and pink and seemed to be the place for couples in love rather than friends just hanging out. “You won’t believe the kind of dreams I had after our lesson with Billywigs. I fell off my bed twice!”

Niamh laughed, throwing her head back. “I like it! I especially liked our lesson on Bowtruckles.”

“They tried to gouge my eyes out, Niamh!”

“That’s because you kept teasing it with its food. In my opinion, you deserved it.”

Theo finally pulled her head out of her Divination textbook, closed it and set it on the table. She had decorated her eyes with orange and pink that day and wore a lime claw clip to pin up her hair. Niamh always admired Theo’s style. She was never afraid of looking how she wanted, not caring what anyone thought of her, loving how she appeared.

“I’m so glad I didn’t pick Arithmancy. It’s pretty much the same as Divination except with numbers. Have you finished your tea?”

“Oh,” Niamh quickly sipped the last of her tea, held the cup in her left hand and swirled the last little bit of liquid around three times. She inverted the cup onto the saucer and after waiting for one minute, she turned it back upright and handed it to Roger.

“Don’t let _him_ read it, Niamh,” Theo said, peering into the cup over Roger’s shoulder. “He could barely tell what mine was.”

“What was yours?”

“He said he thought he saw fame in my future but couldn’t tell if it was a crescent moon or an anchor.”

“I told you, it was cloudy,” Roger said. “Okay, I think I see a rabbit. That means success, doesn’t it?”

Theo took the cup. “Looks more like a pig to me. The nose is pretty defined.”

“So, what does a pig mean?”

Theo opened her textbook to find out but as soon as she started flipping to the letter ‘P’ page, there was a knock at the window. Fred, George and Lee waved at them to come outside. They paid for their tea, grabbed their bags and joined the boys outside.

“Dating two girls at a time, Davies?” Lee said, elbowing Roger.

“Shut up. They wanted to go there, not me.”

“You sure enjoyed your tea,” Niamh said under breath, getting a laugh out of Fred.

“We’re going to Zonko’s if you wanted to come,” George said.

Zonko’s Joke Shop was the place of Fred and George’s dreams; it was like it was made for them. There were products like Dungbombs, which were magical stink bombs (Fred and George said they had the most fun with those); Hiccough Sweets, which induced a hiccoughing fit to anyone who ate them; and Nose-Biting Teacups, which were jinxed to bite the nose of anyone who tried to drink out of them. Niamh wasn’t into pranks as much as the twins but bought a few Hiccough Sweets and some Belch Powder for some harmless fun. Theo and Roger bought a few items themselves and the three friends shared a knowing, cautious look between them, now on edge about any incoming pranks. It was around half an hour after they had bought their things when Fred, George and Lee were finished in the shop as well.

In the spirit of Halloween approaching and, in the excitement of their recently purchased pranks, the month of October wasn’t very productive for the trio. Niamh, Roger and Theo, at one point in time, fell for a trick that the other had pulled. Roger had gotten himself kicked out of the library for having a hiccoughing fit after Niamh tricked him into eating a sweet and Niamh had gotten her nose bitten when Theo asked for her help with her Divination homework. The endless pranks had caused a slight rift between them as they began to avoid each other and jump whenever someone got too close. Theo had to call a ceasefire when, after eating an Acid Pop, she had a hole burned into her tongue and had to see Madam Pomfrey in the hospital. They pooled their prank items together and hid it away for emergencies.

* * *

When October had reached its last day, it was time for the famous Halloween Feast. Carved pumpkins, flying bats and low black clouds decorated the Great Hall. After Dumbledore had said a few words in the spirit of the spooky season, the feast appeared on the tables. Just like at the Start-of-Term feast, Niamh couldn’t wait to dig into the delicious dinner, and especially couldn’t wait for the Halloween themed desserts. Her favourites were the Toffee Apples.

Just as Niamh picked up her knife and fork, a shout sounded from the doors. Professor Quirrell, their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, came running in, all the colour drained from his face.

“Troll!” he shouted. “In the dungeon! Troll – in the dungeons! I thought you ought to know.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he dropped to the floor unconscious.

Noise erupted throughout the Hall as every student began shouting. Niamh tensed in her seat, looking around at her classmates as they started to panic. She spotted Matisse among the other first-years, looking alarmed. She jumped when Dumbledore released several exploding fireworks from his wand to get everyone to quieten down.

“Prefects, escort your houses to their common rooms immediately,” he announced calmly.

Ravenclaw’s prefect, Penelope Clearwater, strictly guided the rest of the house down the halls, towards the Ravenclaw Tower. Niamh looked around with caution as they travelled, hoping the troll didn’t wander upstairs.

“How did a troll get into the school?” Niamh asked, shoulder-to-shoulder with Theo.

“I’ve got no idea,” she replied.

“Isn’t stuff like this supposed to happen on Halloween?” Roger said. “I don’t know why everyone is freaking out.”

Niamh went on her tip-toes and peered overheads to search for her brother. She spotted Fred Weasley up ahead, laughing with his brother. Finally, her eyes found Matisse, a little further back from the twins. He was walking with a tall, lanky boy and a girl with dark eyes and dark hair. He seemed relaxed now that they were all on their way back to the common room.

Niamh’s disappointment of missing out on the Halloween Feast quickly vanished once she discovered the feast was waiting for them in the common room. Everyone was discussing the troll and Professor Quirrell as they enjoyed steak and kidney pie and chocolate gateau. Niamh’s cat Cobweb was also now able to join them. Dressed in a bowtie that Niamh had given him, he flaunted himself around the room, taking the little bits of food students offered him. After dessert, when he’d gotten too full, he fell asleep in Niamh’s lap while she curled up near the fire with Roger and Theo. They stayed up late, still buzzing from the events earlier that evening, Niamh blissfully unaware and entirely unworried of what was to come in the next weeks: Quidditch Trials. 

The realisation hit her after watching the first match of the season and the pressure of being underprepared completely took over her mind. She became distracted in all her classes as she counted down the days before Saturday. Because of the arrival of Harry Potter and his brilliant skill as a Seeker, Ravenclaw’s captain, Dillon White, felt pressured to find his greatest, strongest team. Niamh wondered about her chances of making the team, especially considering she didn’t make it last year. What could she do differently? She wasn’t even sure of what it was that made her not good enough the first time. She hadn’t trained any harder or practised any new moves to prove she was worth it this time around. How did she expect to join the team if-

“Niamh?”

Niamh lifted her head, finding Theo looking expectantly at her. “Sorry?” The two of them, along with Roger, Fred and George were already on their way down to the pitch, the morning of the trials.

“Roger reckons the troll was just a Halloween prank.”

“Well…Professor Quirrell put on a pretty good act then,” Niamh replied, looking back down at the ground.

Roger elbowed her. “Hey, don’t be nervous. Dillon might be a little harder on you this time but you’ll be fine.”

“Uh-”

“I mean he’ll be really watching this time, and there’ll be no second chances if you slip up even once, but it’ll be great. You’ll do great, I promise.”

“I don’t think you’re helping, mate,” said George.

Niamh gave an uneasy smile. Fred placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Would it make you feel better if I said that joining the Ravenclaw team is a bad idea?”

“What?”

He smiled. “Well, you remember what Roger was like last year. If we beat you again this year, which we will with Harry on our side, then all hopes of winning the Cup will be over and you’ll probably never talk to us again.”

Niamh pushed Fred away from her, making him laugh. Last year, when Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw, due to the twins older brother Charlie catching the Snitch, Roger stopped speaking to the pair for a week, brooding in the common room.

“Niamh is going to get on the team and she will flatten Gryffindor in May, I’m calling it right now,” Theo said confidently. “I’ve been taking Divination for two months now; I know what I’m talking about.”

“That’s likely,” the twins chorused.

Fred, George and Theo sat down in the stands while Roger and Niamh went to the middle of the pitch where the rest of the team was gathered. There were a few second-years standing around as well, all looking as eager as Niamh and Roger had last year. Their captain, Dillon White, a tall, broad sixth year with dirty blonde hair, was already well into his monologue about training hard and being the best.

Dillon had those trying out for Chaser fly up and down the pitch and attempt scoring, all the while avoiding Bludgers. Niamh was a great catcher, always swooping in to catch the Quaffle while others would have missed. She was swift too. Niamh felt confident with her performance once try-outs ended. It was always the most exhilarating feeling to fly and it eased many of her worries. She had a big smile on her face once she touched back down, Roger also looked impressed and gave her a thumbs up. Dillon called for a huddle and began sharing his thoughts.

“So, I’m pretty happy with how we look. Now, before I go on, I just want to warn you that our first game of the season is two weeks away which means we’ll be having to practise every chance we get. Okay, I have decided to make a few changes to the team, some of you will like it, some of you won’t, but that’s just the way it is. If we want to win the House Cup, sacrifices have to be made.”

Niamh felt her stomach doing flips. She decided that if she didn’t make the team this year, she would give up Quidditch for good. She almost didn’t want to hear what Dillon had to say.

“Our new beater is Duncan Inglebee. Congratulations, mate, you were brilliant. Niamh Wilde, I’ve decided to make you our newest Chaser, replacing Randolph Burrow. Burrow, I’m sorry, but you’ll be our Chaser substitute. You’re a great player but I need the best this year and I believe Niamh is finally living up to her potential.”  
A massive weight had been lifted off her shoulders as the excitement ran through her body. The exhilaration suddenly fell away the moment she met eyes with Randolph. He was glaring at her with so much disdain she felt guilty for stealing his spot. Fists clenched, he stormed off the pitch. Roger came up behind Niamh and gave her a big hug, lifting her off the ground. Her elation returned and happily celebrated with the rest of the team.

“Way to go, Niamh!”


	3. Chapter 3

The day of Niamh’s first Quidditch match had sneaked up on her. The morning of, she barely touched her breakfast; the thought of eating made her sick. She had spent the night before convincing herself she only managed to join the team because Randolph wasn’t good enough, not because of her skills as a player. What was Dillon thinking? Perhaps she can ask him to replace her with Randolph. Maybe he made a mistake. Roger, who had felt the exact same way before his first match, encouraged her to breath and to trust in her skills.

“What is the worst that could happen?” he said. “If we lose, it won’t be your fault. We’ve just got to go out there with confidence and play without thinking too hard about it. Go with your instincts, take every chance. We’ve got this!” He squeezed both of her shoulders.

Niamh nodded, still afraid to open her mouth in case she vomited. She glanced down the table and saw Randolph staring at her while stuffing his mouth with sausages. Niamh gulped. It’d be easy for her to convince Randolph to take her place since it was his position to begin with. 

Theo then joined them at the table, taking Niamh’s orange juice and sculling it. She slammed it back down onto the table and sighed.

“Where have you been?” Roger asked, returning to his toast.

“I slept in,” she replied. “I stayed up all night to finish my Ancient Runes homework. How are you feeling, Niamh?”

Niamh quickly nodded and gave her a thumbs-up while her brother, Matisse, moved from his spot at the end of the table to sit next to her.

“You look like you’ve just witnessed a murder,” he said, sliding his plate in front of him. “Are you worried you’re gonna miss your first goal? Because that’d be embarrassing.” Niamh glared at him, feeling hot on the back of her neck.

“What is wrong with you?” Roger whispered.

Matisse simply laughed. “I’m just winding her up. You’ll be fine, Niamh.”

From the other side of the Hall, she spotted Fred and George walking to the Ravenclaw table.

“Just wanted to come and tell you that we’ve got a bet with Lee on the odds of who will win the match,” Fred said.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got your back, Niamh. Although, we should warn you that most of Gryffindor are on the side of Hufflepuff. Apparently, Cedric Diggory is picked as favourite to catch the Snitch first,” George added.

Niamh began to sweat, her heart beating faster and faster as the pressure started getting to her.

“Hey guys, she’s under enough stress,” Roger said.

“We’re encouraging her. We want Ravenclaw to win.”

“Because you’ll lose money if they don’t; that’s not exactly encouraging,” Theo said, getting up. “Come on Niamh, you don’t want to be late.”

When she gathered with the rest of the team in the changing rooms, Niamh heard the noise from the crowd outside. She peered out of the curtain. Half of the stands were blue and bronze, the other yellow and black. She spotted Theo sitting between Fred and George, talking amongst themselves, while holding a banner that read: _Ravenclaw For The Win_.

“Niamh?”

Dillon waved her over and she joined the huddle. He discussed their game plan in intense detail, making sure every player was clear on how to play to win. Niamh got instruction to shadow a player named O’Hennessy who was apparently known as a dropper.

“I think with this plan, we’ve got a guaranteed win. So let’s get out there and show them what we’re made of!”

The team cheered and gave each other high-fives and pats on the back, while Niamh debated whether or not to pull Dillon aside and force him to take her off the team. This is important to him, she thought, and she didn’t want to let him down.

Walking onto the pitch, clutching her broom at her side, she found her friends again in the stands. They cheered and clapped, Theo waving the sign above her head. With a little encouragement from them, Niamh breathed and tried her best to turn her mind off.

Roger was the first to score. A loud cheer erupted from the stands once the game officially began. Niamh followed Dillon’s advice and stayed low. Roger and Jeremy followed the other two Chasers, managing to get them to hand off the Quaffle to O’Hennessy who was then hounded by the Bludgers. Just as they’d planned, O’Hennessy dropped the Quaffle and straight in Niamh’s clutches. She swooped down to escape the chase then flew straight up and shot the ball towards the right goalpost. It just missed the Hufflepuff Keeper’s fingertips and scored Ravenclaw ten points. The feeling of scoring her first goal in her first Quidditch match made Niamh feel like she was on top of the world. All concerns of her skills as a player fizzled away. Everyone that was cheering for her made her feel warm inside and the butterflies in her stomach made her smile. Roger rode alongside her and gave her a high-five before they returned to their positions. Ravenclaw managed to maintain a lead for a while, scoring twenty more points, Roger ten and Jeremy another. However, Hufflepuff started collecting points quickly, taking a lead of a hundred a thirty points. There was still hope for Ravenclaw if they caught the Snitch. Leah and Cedric were in a fierce chase once the Snitch had been spotted. Hufflepuff managed to score another goal, making the difference between both teams a hundred points. Niamh was beginning to feel their efforts weren’t enough. She started a strong play by hounding O’Hennessy. The other Chasers for Hufflepuff were dodging the Bludgers and the Quaffle was thrown O’Hennessy’s way. Niamh charged forward and caught it before he did. She circled him then tore ahead for the goals. Niamh threw the Quaffle fast towards the middle goalpost and it flew straight through, earning them another ten points. The score was now at fifty to one-hundred and forty. A cheer exploded from the crowd, but an even louder one surpassed it. Niamh looked down the pitch and saw Leah holding up the Snitch in triumph, confirming Ravenclaw’s win; two hundred points to one-forty.

Niamh’s euphoria lasted into the Christmas holidays. When her father heard the news, he was equally as thrilled, so much so that he bought her brand new gloves to replace his old ones that she was using. It was always said that Matisse resembled their father in appearance, but Niamh and Bran were easily the same person. Both were passionate and determined and there was something powerful in their smiles. Bran also loved Quidditch as much as his daughter. In his youth, he played as a Chaser in smaller Quidditch leagues before taking up a career at the Ministry of Magic.

Niamh and Matisse’s mother, Mireille, was also pleased for Niamh’s victory, perhaps less so. She never much cared for the sport but was more interested in ambition in the arts and academia. Once an Auror but now worked as a tailor at Madam Malkin’s. As handsome as her fashion sense, she was responsible for the curls and the big, curious eyes in the children. Her streak of boldness and bravery was only found in Matisse, while Niamh matched her will for a debate, which made for a lot of arguments around the house. 

Every second Christmas, the Wilde’s celebrated the holiday in Ireland with Bran’s side of the family, however this year, it was spent at home. Amos Diggory, a good friend and co-worker of Bran’s, invited them all to a party at his house for Christmas Eve. There, Niamh finally met his son, Cedric Diggory. They hadn’t had a chance to introduce themselves at their Quidditch match. Cedric was also in his third year at Hogwarts and, from what Niamh heard, was a fairly popular student. He was both smart and athletic; practically perfect in every way, with his dark hair and chiselled features. She wondered how Roger would feel about her becoming friends with a player from the opposing team. For the rest of the night, they talked about nothing but Quidditch. Matisse had joined them and was eager to show off everything he’d learnt at school so far, from how to brew Pompion Potion to explaining how he knew how to transform a match into a needle. He even went on to describe all his new friends in Michael Corner, Padma Patil, and a boy he’d met from Slytherin, Draco Malfoy. Niamh and Cedric attempted to get him interested in Quidditch but he soon found them boring and left to show-off to his parents. When it was time for the Wilde’s to leave, Niamh and Cedric were still in deep conversation. Even as she walked out the door, they shouted over the top of their parents who kept ushering them away from each other, before finally, they agreed to catch up again at Hogwarts.

* * *

The snow was still thick in January. It called for warm clothing and studying by the fire at every opportunity. During the month, Niamh and Roger noticed more and more how hard Theo was pushing herself. She was always turning into bed at odd hours of the morning, waking up with dark circles under her eyes, and falling asleep in class. Even on her birthday, she preferred to spend it in the library than celebrate. Roger and Niamh sneaked in a few Pink Coconut Ice sweets for her anyway.

“You are taking the exact amount of classes I am, Theo. How do you have this much work?” Niamh asked during breakfast one morning.

“I don’t know. I’m just working hard. I’m trying to do my best,” Theo said, currently playing with her porridge with her spoon, stirring it around, lifting it up and letting it fall off with a splat.

“So are we,” Roger said, his mouth full. “Something else is going on. Tell us.”

Theo pushed her bowl away from her. “It’s nothing. Can we please drop the subject?”

Though reluctant, Niamh and Roger let it go, but they kept an eye on her anyway. Roger helped Theo with her Divination homework as much as he could while Niamh stayed up with her in the common room; she even tried boring Theo to sleep by explaining every minor difference between a Moontrimmer broomstick and a Silver Arrow.

All the extra work Theo was putting in seemed to be paying off. She was becoming the smartest student in all her classes, impressing all of her teachers. In Transfiguration, Theo turned a tortoise into a teapot on her first try, doing it perfectly and earning Ravenclaw ten points from McGonagall. Niamh’s teapot still wobbled across the desk after her third try. In Potions, Theo brewed the Girding Potion flawlessly, winning herself a small vial of it, which she used for even more hours of study. In Herbology, Niamh decided to take lessons from Theo’s diligence after Theo received Professor Sprout’s immense approval in class when planting her Puffapods and answering every theory question correctly.

Niamh found a great excuse to take a break from her intense studying when her birthday finally arrived. It was the same day as Valentine’s Day. During lunch, Niamh, Theo, Roger and the twins congregated in the courtyard, shivering and huddled together for warmth, sharing around the package of sweets her parents had sent her. Niamh had lent Fred her scarf and tried to pretend she wasn’t cold without it as she bit into a Cauldron Cake with a trembling hand.

It seemed Theo wasn’t the only one having a tough time; Fred and George were miserable, having just been told that Professor Snape was to referee their match against Hufflepuff, and according to them, he had it out for Gryffindor.

“He’s not even going to give us a chance,” George complained before blowing hot air into his cupped hands. Theo and Niamh were huddled together while Roger was lying on the seat, his head in Theo’s lap and hogging the bag of Salt Water Taffy. Fred and George sat across from them, hunched over, Fred playing with the tassels on the end of Niamh’s scarf.

“And Wood’s been training us hard, making sure we don’t do anything that’ll make Snape pick on us,” Fred said. “I swear, Wood will die of a heart attack before this season’s over.”

“Niamh!” Cedric Diggory jogged over to the group and took a seat beside Niamh. “Can I join you?”

Niamh smiled. “Of course. Cauldron Cake?” She offered the unwrapped packaging where three more cakes were left. He happily took one.

“Come to gloat, Diggory?” Fred said.

“What do you mean?” 

“We already know you’re going to win, purely on penalties alone,” George said.

Cedric laughed. “I don’t know about that.”

“Leave him alone,” said Niamh. Fred narrowed his eyes at her. “We should all agree that from now on, we’re rivals on the pitch and that’s it.”

“Speaking of Quidditch,” George said, elbowing his brother.

Fred grinned, pulled out a card and passed it to Roger. “Here, Davies, Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Roger opened the envelope to find a pink card with love hearts all over it. He opened it and a loud, elegant voice began to recite,

“ _Roses are red, violets are blue, we hope you like our Valentine’s card, we made it especially for you. The game of Quidditch is a beautiful sport, it’s a wonderous game to play, we just hope you’re mentally prepared, for your team to lose in May_.”

Roger quickly sat up, glaring at the twins. Theo took the card from his hand and showed it to Niamh and Cedric as Roger lunged to grab the twins who were howling with laughter. He quickly gave chase and they sprinted away in the opposite direction. They returned a few minutes later, all three of them now laughing together, and helped the others polish off the rest of Niamh’s sweets.

“Happy birthday, Niamh,” Fred said, returning her scarf as they walked back inside. 

“Is this my present, is it?” She wrapped it around her neck and got a waft of Fred’s scent. It was earthy and sweet at the same time, with hints of pineapple and peppermint. She felt hot in the cheeks and quickly looked down.

“Of course not,” he said. “My present will be a wish of good luck for the game against us in May because you’re gonna need it.” Niamh laughed and pushed Fred in the shoulder.

* * *

Things took a turn for the worse the next week when Professor Snape had taken over for Professor Quirrell in their Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Their lesson with him was on Boggarts; what they were, how they worked, and how to defend oneself. As expected, Theo did well to learn quickly and turn a large, evil-looking wizard into a clown. When it was Niamh’s turn, the Boggart shifted itself into a tall, intimidating, ugly Banshee. It was the same Banshee that had haunted her dreams since she was a child, with its horrible, gaunt face and long, black hair. Niamh raised her wand, trying as hard as she could to concentrate on the spell, but when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. Her whole body froze, her throat tightening up. A disappointed Snape helped the Boggart turn its attention on another student while Niamh sat down at her desk, sweating all down her back, shaking.

Niamh heard people talking about her in whispers a few days afterwards about how she ‘choked.’ She tried her best to ignore what people were saying and focus a little harder in class in an attempt to not let it happen again. However, her nightmares of the Banshee had so often kept her up at night that it was difficult for her to shake off the dreadful feeling. While in the library with Fred, George and Roger, Niamh could barely keep her eyes open.

“Did you recognise that wizard that appeared in front of Theo?” Roger asked. With her chin resting on her palm, her elbow on the table, Niamh shook her head. “She looked afraid of him but I guess she knew what she was doing when she turned it into a clown.”

“All her hard work is paying off,” Niamh mumbled.

Roger tapped his quill on the table. “Surely all this studying isn’t just so she’ll become Prefect in our fifth year. I tried to get her to talk about it again but she just avoided it.”

Niamh shrugged. “She’ll come around.” She turned her head when she heard hushed voices from the table behind them. Four girls from Slytherin quickly looked away and giggled once Niamh spotted them.

“I don’t understand why everyone thinks it’s ridiculous that you were too afraid of your Boggart,” George began.

Fred chuckled, then said under his breath, “Good one, Georgie.”

“That’s the whole point of them, right?”

They returned to their studies. Niamh soon closed her eyes and dozed off on Fred’s shoulder.

Niamh woke up with a start that evening. Her body was frozen; she couldn’t move. At the end of her bed was the same ugly Banshee, its mouth open as if it were screaming but the noise that came out was a sound Niamh never wanted to hear again. Her mother’s painful cries pierced her ears, making Niamh shout out to drown them out. With one quick motion, the curtain on her four-poster bed was opened and Theo leaned over her.

“Niamh, it’s okay,” she said, holding onto her shoulders. “Just breathe. In and out.”

Niamh took a sharp inhale through her nose and released a shaky exhale out her mouth. She did this a few more times before she felt her body loosen. The Banshee was finally gone and it was silent again.

“She’s okay. Sorry.” Theo said to one of the other girls in the dormitory. Theo climbed onto the bed, as Niamh sat up, and closed the curtain. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Niamh whispered, though her heart was still racing and her hands still shaking.

“What were you dreaming about?”

Niamh rubbed her eyes. “I saw that Banshee again. I heard my mother screaming.” She found her voice trembling and weak. Theo took her hands and squeezed them. “When I was three, Death Eaters attacked my parents. Bellatrix Lestrange tortured my mother. I saw it happened as my father escaped with me and Matisse.”

“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”

“Ever since class, I’ve been having more and more nightmares. I’ve just been trying so hard to be as good as you.”

“Niamh, you’re smart without even trying. Half of the time, I’m trying to catch up with you. And you choked, so what? You were just faced with the thing you’re most afraid of, I don’t blame you. And hey, you’re not the only one who’s been hurt by Death Eaters.”

Niamh blinked away tears. “Your father?”

Theo nodded. “He was killed because he married a Muggle. He betrayed the family. My mother and I haven’t been doing well lately so I’ve been pushing myself harder with my studies so I can do well on my exams and find a good job after graduation. I know I should’ve told you and Roger-”

Niamh wrapped her arms around Theo’s shoulders, holding her tight. Theo returned the embrace.

“Let’s help out each other, okay? We’re killing ourselves with all this hard work,” Niamh said.

“Alright.” Theo pulled away then held out her hand, her pinky finger extended. “Pinky promise?”

Niamh laughed. “What?”

Theo wrapped Niamh’s little finger around hers. “It’s just a way to make a promise. Promise to look out for each other.”

“Promise.”

The girls kept their promise and stuck together for a few weeks until they felt themselves go back to normal. Theo went a little easier on herself and went to bed at a reasonable hour while Niamh relaxed in her classes, letting things come naturally to her, and her nightmares faded. Roger was surprised at the sudden change in mood between them but he didn’t protest; in fact, he found himself in a better mood for it. By the last week of February, the three friends were back normal and things were good.


	4. Chapter 4

Niamh didn’t see much of Fred and George in the weeks leading up to the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match. All their hard training had led them to a match that lasted no more than five minutes. They were right about Snape as he’d handed out two penalties to Hufflepuff within minutes after the whistle blew, one after George aimed a Bludger at him, and another for no reason at all; but everyone in Gryffindor would agree that he only gave them out because he had something against them. Fortunately, Harry Potter captured the Snitch before Snape could let Hufflepuff win.

During the Easter break, students were piled with revision homework for their upcoming exams in June. While the weather was getting nicer, Niamh, Theo, Roger and the twins spent most of their time outside by the lake. They quizzed each other on Red Caps and Hinkypunks, the uses of Nettle, and the history of Witch Burning in the 14th century. The twins were quickly realising that being friends with studious Ravenclaws was a terrible idea, so when they weren’t studying, or when Fred and George forced them to pull their heads out of their books for once, they simply sat around and talked. Theo drove on and on about her favourite bands and Roger was trying to get her into the Weird Sisters, a popular band in the wizarding world; Niamh showed off some of her sketches she’d done and told them all about the famous Muggle painters she’d learnt about in Muggle Studies; Fred and George updated them on their secret joke shop business they had going out of one of the disused bathrooms on the second floor. Schoolwork became a distant memory by then. Apparently, it was easy to distract the Ravenclaws and get them passionately rambling about their interests besides school.

It came naturally to the five of them to be with each other at every opportunity as they had the most fun when they were together. Fred made Niamh laugh; the clutching her stomach and crying kind of laugh. Niamh, George and Roger only spoke about Quidditch together which often turned into loud, sometimes violent, arguments (Niamh slapped Roger across the face when he claimed the Kestrels captain Darren O’Hare was a cheat) causing Theo and Fred to break them up. Niamh and Theo shared their love of music, while Theo, Fred and George shared their love of pranks. However, the five of them didn’t keep just to themselves, they also had good friends in Lee Jordan, Cedric Diggory (the twins were easier on him after their win against Hufflepuff, calling it all ‘good, competitive fun’) and Angelina Johnson. Angelina was a Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and fit in quite easily with Niamh and Roger who was just as passionate about the game as they were.

However, matches between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw always caused a bit of tension within the group, specifically between Roger and Fred. Last year, Gryffindor had won and Roger didn’t speak to them for days afterwards. Theo tried her best to keep the peace by reminding them that they were all great players in their own way and that “It’s just a game!”

Although, if it weren’t for Niamh’s injury in May’s match, it might just have been the one that ended the friendship for good.

* * *

Niamh and Roger steered clear of Fred, George and Angelina during breakfast after Theo and Cedric were forced to pull both groups away from each other just on the way to the Great Hall. All George did was wish Roger good luck with that smirk on his face and Roger almost jumped on him. Fred laughed longer than necessary and Niamh jeered back with a smart remark causing Cedric to steer her towards the Ravenclaw table. And then, Roger had to bring up the poem and make himself all angry but Niamh didn’t mind, she always thought Roger played better angry. They forced down some jam toast and washed it down with pumpkin juice, all the while glaring at the three Gryffindors at the opposite table.

Even on the pitch, the five of them shared sarcastic compliments and joked about what they’re going to do when they win the match. Fred shook Niamh’s hand and opened his mouth to speak but she gripped his hand so tight he winced and pulled away. George threatened to get her disqualified for trying to mess with Fred’s batting hand but Professor Hooch blew her whistle and the game began.

Ravenclaw managed to gain a great lead within the first ten minutes of the game. Niamh, Roger and fellow Chaser, Jeremy Stretton, were getting goal after goal while Gryffindor was yet to score. After all the taunting and jeering earlier, the twins were growing ever so frustrated and angry. They started hitting the Bludgers with an almighty force, just to give Gryffindor a chance at holding the Quaffle.

The score was one-hundred and sixty to zero; the crowd couldn’t believe it. Even if Gryffindor caught the Snitch, they still wouldn’t win. After a quick time out by Gryffindor’s captain to discuss a new game strategy, Niamh was the first to capture the Quaffle. She zoomed down the pitch, avoiding Angelina’s grasp with a quick veer to the left. The second she straightened herself on her broom, something hard collided into her face. A collective gasp sounded from the crowd. A sharp, blinding pain erupted from her nose and mouth and she dived downwards, her vision blurry. Her mouth started filling with blood and she felt it trickling down her lips.

Still clutching the Quaffle against her body, Niamh still continued to fly, she hadn’t quite caught on to what had happened yet. According to her, she had the Quaffle so she had to score. She pulled her broom upwards and flew straight towards the goals, her eyes now seeing six instead of three. It was lucky Oliver Wood was distracted, Niamh hurled the ball through the hoop and scored Ravenclaw another ten points. She heard shouts and whistles. She thought she saw Roger flying towards her but her vision was growing dark. Her body suddenly went limp and the last thing she remembered was falling.

* * *

“She’s waking up, look.”

Niamh’s eyes fluttered open to see four concerned faces staring down at her. Theo was sitting on her bed, holding her hand while Roger was standing next to her, his arms crossed. At the end of the bed was Fred and George; Fred looked oddly guilty.

“How you feeling?” Roger asked.

Niamh licked her dry lips and felt the aching in her whole face. She was still a bit dizzy but her vision was slowly going back to normal. She cleared her throat.

“Sore. Who won the game?”

Roger’s expression of concern transformed into one of pure joy. “We floored them. The scored ended up three hundred and ten to twenty. Can you believe it?”

“We’re never going to hear the end of it,” George said.

Niamh frowned. “What happened?” She noticed Fred shifting on the spot, avoiding her eyes.

Theo glanced at him then back to Niamh. “Um, I guess Fred let the frustration of losing out on a Bludger. He hit it right into your face.”

“It was an accident, Niamh, I promise,” Fred said quickly, folding his arms over his chest.

“I saw it happen. It was brutal,” Roger said, laughing. “It looked like half of your teeth flew out of your mouth. Don’t worry though, Madam Pomfrey gave you something to help them grow back.”

“It’s not funny, Roger,” said Theo. “If it weren’t for Professor McGonagall stopping Niamh from hitting the ground, she would’ve died.”

“You hate me that much, Fred?” Niamh said, smiling. She groaned at the sharp pain.

“I thought you’d dodge it.”

“You were two feet away from her. I’m surprised the impact alone didn’t kill you,” Roger said. “Might have screwed up your brain though. Niamh, do you know what year it is?”

“Shut up,” she laughed.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey hurried over.

“Alright, time to give the girl some rest,” she said. “Out you go. You can come back in the morning.”

Once her friends had left and it was time for lights out, Niamh noticed an unconscious Harry Potter lying two beds away from her. She didn’t have a clue as to why he was there. She had noticed his absence at the match and wondered if that’s why Ravenclaw won so greatly. She was not at all denying their talents but Harry Potter was quite possibly one of the greatest Seekers at such a young age.

Niamh attempted to recall what her parents had said about him. What she remembered most was her parents talking about his mother Lily and his father James. They went to school together and were good friends up until their death. Niamh used to notice how her mother couldn’t talk about her friend Lily without tearing up. She thought back to the night her family was attacked by Bellatrix Lestrange. Niamh was only three years old and some memories had blurred together but she just had an image in her mind of a small baby boy with thick black hair, sitting on his mother’s knee. After her father had escaped with her and her brother, did he take them to the Potters? Niamh couldn’t remember much else; she didn’t want to spend too long thinking about it or else she’d have a nightmare. Her eyes grew tired and she eventually fell back asleep.

In the morning, more voices woke her up. She opened her heavy eyes and saw the twins at Harry Potter’s bed, getting a stern talking-to from Madam Pomfrey.

“You may _not_ leave him a lavatory seat,” she said, taking it from them. “Now, if you two won’t be quiet, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Fred put his hands up in defence. “Alright, alright. We’ll sit with Niamh, then.”

Madam Pomfrey shook her head and went back to her desk. Fred and George snickered to themselves and went over to Niamh’s bed. They jumped onto her bed and smiled.

“Feeling better?” George asked. “Madam Pomfrey said you’ll be out of here after breakfast.”

Niamh sat up. “I’m feeling okay. All my teeth have grown back, see?” She gave them a big, toothy grin.

“Very nice,” said Fred. “Hey, I’m really sorry about what happened.”

“Don’t worry about, Fred. I’m fine. I would’ve been upset if we lost but we didn’t, we destroyed you,” she said, pushing them both in shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You took it like a champ, though, Niamh,” George said. “I’m impressed.”

Niamh smiled. “Hey, do you two know why he’s in here?” She pointed to a still unconscious Harry Potter.

Fred then told Niamh what the school had been told from Dumbledore. Apparently, Professor Quirrell was working for You-Know-Who and was attempting to steal something called The Philosopher’s Stone. Harry, Fred and George’s little brother Ron, and their friend Hermione, managed to find it. Harry was injured pretty badly but succeeded in stopping Professor Quirrell and You-Know-Who before anything terrible could happen.

“How does a kid get up to that much trouble in their first year?” Niamh asked bewildered.

“Who knows? I just can’t believe Ron was involved,” Fred chuckled.

Niamh was released from hospital that morning and returned to her common room, with Fred and George in tow, finding all her classmates there waiting for her. They cheered the moment she stepped in through the door. Theo grabbed her hand and pulled her further in.

“We wanted to wait till you were out of hospital before we celebrated the win,” she said.

Ravenclaw’s captain, Dillon White, pulled Niamh in for a big hug, spinning her around.

“Now this is the kind of player I want you all to be! Still scoring goals when you’ve lost half your teeth and bleeding down your shirt.” The room applauded. “Thanks, Fred, for the help.”

Fred chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

With the school year ended, exams finally finished, and the summer holidays soon to begin, students made their way to Hogsmeade station to board the Hogwarts Express. While walking to the train, Fred and Niamh talked about their plans for the holidays and how glad they were to have a break.

“You should come and hang out with me and George this-”

“Hey, Wilde!” Niamh turned around and Cedric was jogging towards her. “Never got a chance to say how brilliant you were in that game. Absolutely brilliant. It’s a shame you’re not on our team.”

Niamh smiled broadly. “Well if I was, it wouldn’t be fair on the other teams, would it?”

“You’re right, you’re right. How did you go on your exams?”

“Pretty well. And you?”

Cedric lowered his head and grinned. “Let’s just say my dad will be proud of me. We should catch up this summer. You too, Fred.”

Fred raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Oh yeah, sounds good.”

Cedric gave them both a nod, said farewell and hopped on the train. Niamh pulled on Fred’s sleeve and they continued walking.

“He’s great, isn’t he?” Niamh said. Fred agreed, though only half-heartedly, and the pair boarded the train. They found the compartment where George, Theo and Roger were already sitting, and before they went in, Niamh turned to Fred. “Hey, I hope you don’t feel too bad about what happened. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“Oh, I know.” A smile crept on his face. “I got you this, though. To make up for it.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a plastic set of teeth with feet. He placed it into Niamh’s palm and it started to waddle, the teeth chattering. Niamh threw her head back, letting out a hearty laugh.

“Thank you, Fred.” She pulled him in for an embrace, which he returned. “I love it.”

They joined the others in the compartment and Niamh showed off her teeth. Her cat, Cobweb, didn’t like them very much as he hissed at it until Niamh put it away. They spent the train ride back, laughing and eating all the sweets they could stomach and returned to London feeling bittersweet. With promises to write to one another, the five friends wished each other farewell.


	5. Chapter 5

“Back straight, Niamh.”

Niamh straightened her shoulders and raised her chin and her mother wrapped the measuring tape around her ribcage. Staring at herself in the mirror, she realised just how much she’d changed over the summer. She grown a few inches taller, her chest was slowly growing and she’d lost some weight in her face. Her curls had grown past her shoulders now and she’d cut a fringe to hang just above her eyebrows. Her skin was a little darker as well, from all those long hours out in the sun playing Quidditch with Cedric and the twins. Because of all this growing, her mother found it appropriate to measure her for a new uniform.

Since she’d returned home for the summer, there’d been one thing plaguing Niamh’s mind: Harry Potter. Seeing him lying unconscious in the hospital and remembering everything she knew about the boy, she wanted to know more. She wanted to know if she was simply imagining meeting him as a baby and, given the fact she was only three years old at the time, she could’ve blurred early memories together. She felt she should know the truth about what happened on the night her family was attacked, especially because of the fact that she’s kept awake most nights out of fear of dreaming of the Banshee emitting her mother’s tortured screams.

“Always frowning,” Mireille said gently, pushing a finger between Niamh’s furrowed eyebrows. “You’re just like your father.”

Niamh relaxed her face. “Can I talk to you about something?”

Mireille took Niamh’s hand and pushed the top of the measuring tape into her palm, making her hold it near her head, while she took the length of it down the side of Niamh’s body to her feet.

“Yes?”

“I know you don’t like talking about it but…” Mireille took the tape back and started to wrap it around her fingers. “I just-I want to know more about what happened the night we were attacked. I’ve been having those nightmares again.”

“I didn’t know that,” Mireille replied, putting the tape on a table by the mirror. She turned back to Niamh and clasped her hands together. “What would you like to know? I’ll answer every question as best I can.”

“Why were you attacked? Why were you… tortured like that?”

Niamh could tell the mere memory of the night was painful enough for Mireille but she was strong enough not to let it affect her too heavily. She always admired her mother’s strength and especially her no-nonsense attitude; she wasn’t afraid of conflict or speaking her mind. But Mireille thought of her answer for longer than Niamh expected as if she were trying to find a gentler way of putting it or perhaps even trying to come up with a different story.

“I made a lot of enemies when I worked as an Auror,” she said finally. “I worked around the height of the First Wizarding War and I caught many dark wizards who worked in the name of… Voldemort.”

Niamh held her breath. She’d never heard anyone speak You-Know-Who’s name out loud, not even her father. Mireille had hesitated but she didn’t regret saying it.

“Bellatrix Lestrange and a few of her other Death Eater friends tracked me down and wanted to punish me, I suppose, for locking up their friends and for trying to hunt them down. We were living in Godric’s Hollow at the time and when they showed up, I made your father take you and Matisse away from the house, somewhere safe. He took you both to the Potter’s.”

“You were friends, weren’t you?”

Mireille nodded. “I was in Gryffindor, like them, though I was a few years above. We all grew very close with James and Lily, so when we were in trouble, we could trust them to take care of you and Matisse.”

“How did you get out of it?”

“A friend of ours, Remus, came just in time. He took me to the hospital.” She stopped and began to wring her hands together. She carried a saddened expression that Niamh was very familiar with. “It wasn’t long after that that James and Lily were killed. I wanted to repay the favour and take in Harry as our own but Dumbledore wouldn’t let me; he said Harry was safest with his aunt and uncle.”

Niamh didn’t know what else to ask. “I’m sorry.”

Mireille smiled. She reached up and tucked Niamh’s hair behind her ear. “You mentioned you’re having nightmares again? I wished you hadn’t remembered anything from that night, but-” Mireille held her daughter’s face in her hands, looking at her straight in the eyes. “You don’t need to be afraid of that woman and what she did and you don’t need to worry about me, alright? I know it’s scary to hear Voldemort’s name again, after all these years, but I promise that I won’t let anything happen to you or your brother.”

Niamh nodded and when her mother was assured that she understood, she pulled away and smiled. She started to turn back towards the table but quickly looked at Niamh again.

“Don’t mention any of this to your father. He’s carried a lot of guilt with him ever since that night and I think it’d be better for all of us if we left it in the past.” Mireille nodded again and picked up the pincushion on the table. She went back to work while Niamh replayed their conversation in her head. She was unsettled by her mother’s last words. What did she mean guilt? Because he didn’t stay? Because it was their friend Remus who saved Mireille and not him? He had to take care of Niamh and Matisse so why should he feel guilty? Nevertheless, Niamh felt assured and didn’t feel so compelled to let her warped memories of the attack weigh on her mind anymore.

Unlike her brother Matisse, who’d spent all his summer break locked away in his room, Niamh spent every chance she had outside. The last few weeks of summer were still spent with Cedric and the twins. As the four of them lived so close to one another, they’d meet in a field that acted as a half-way point between their houses and play Quidditch until the sunset. Without three more players to make a whole team, and to avoid risk being seen using real Quidditch balls, they settled for throwing and catching apples across the paddock.

After a whole afternoon of playing, the four of them rested beneath a tall elm tree. They left their brooms in a pile at the base of the tree and spread themselves out in the shade, cooling down and catching their breath. 

“So, the rescue mission was a success,” said George, proudly.

“Yep, Harry Potter is safe and sound at the Burrow, getting a very detailed tour of Ron’s room and all his Chudley Canon posters.”

Fred smiled, winking at Niamh. She rolled her eyes, still mystified at the fact that despite how much she urged them not to risk themselves by flying the Ford Anglia in the sky and possibly being seen by Muggles, they still went and rescued Harry Potter from his Muggle relatives. Apparently, their brother Ron hadn’t heard anything from Harry all summer and had gotten worried so they devised a reckless plan of picking him up and taking him back to the Burrow.

“Why did he need rescuing?” Cedric asked, scratching his head. His brown hair had turned a few shades lighter over the summer, as opposed to his skin that had browned in the sun. Niamh couldn’t deny Cedric Diggory was good-looking, and every other girl at Hogwarts thought so too, but she didn’t fawn over him as much as they did. And he wasn’t the only one who’d changed over the summer neither. Without fail, the twins just grew taller and taller and, Niamh was certain Fred had picked up at least five new irritating habits. She wasn’t tired of him yet but if he continued to stare at her and smirk as if he knew something she didn’t, she might punch him in the face.

“Apparently his aunt and uncle had locked him up in his room and hid away his wand. Thought he'd jinx them or something,” George laughed.

“Dad sure likes having him here, keeps asking him all about Muggles,” said Fred.

“So I suppose he’s recovered from all that excitement in June? You know, that whole Philosopher Stone stuff?” Niamh asked, running her fingers through the grass.

“I guess. He hasn’t really brought it up.”

What a way to start your first year at Hogwarts: battle a troll, play a real game of wizards chess and face Lord Voldemort. She knew Harry Potter was special, given how his life began, but she didn’t realise what kind of excitement might follow him. Niamh’s first year at Hogwarts wasn’t as thrilling; she mostly kept her head inside a book, absorbing as much information as she could. For half of the year, Roger was her only friend and they bonded over Quidditch. It wasn’t until she met Theo that she learned there was more to learn in the real world than inside a book, and her life at Hogwarts became a whole lot more interesting. Now, she and her friends were entering into their fourth year and all she hoped for was a peaceful year without injuries or nightmares.

“I should head home,” Cedric said, standing up. “I have to be back before dinner.”

Niamh and the twins followed, picking up their brooms from the pile. They said a quick goodbye and before Niamh could fly off home, Fred took her arm.

“Hang on,” he said. “You should come over tomorrow.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have another game of Quidditch but with the greatest Seeker of his age,” George said, smirking, leaning on his standing broom.

“Why didn’t you invite Cedric to come?” she asked.

Fred gave his brother a quick look and looked back at Niamh as if he hadn’t done so. “Ah, he probably needs an extra day to admire himself in the mirror before going back to school. We thought we’d leave him to it.”

“Come by ours round ten o’clock, okay?” George said, nudging Niamh in the arm before he and his brother hopped on their brooms and flew in the direction of the Burrow.

The Burrow was a unique and magical home, as Niamh came to realise when she arrived the next day. It looked to be at least four or five stories high with chimneys jutting out here and there. It looked crooked in certain ways but not in any way that made it seem unstable. The gardens around the house were beautiful, chickens were pecking around the yard, and a small pig pen sat off to the side neighbouring a larger shed. Like Niamh’s own home, it was settled in nicely between the hills and paddocks in Devon so no Muggles would come across it. She supposed any Muggle who saw this kind of house wouldn’t think it to be structurally sound and find it quite strange looking.

A sign near the front entrance read ‘The Burrow’ but Niamh didn’t need the sign to know where she was. A house as unique and eccentric as this must belong to a family like the Weasley’s who were just as unique and eccentric on their own.

Fred and George must have seen Niamh through the window as they opened the door before she had a chance to knock. They were still dressed in their pyjamas and Niamh was worried she’d arrived too early. They pulled her inside and she was welcomed with the smell of breakfast cooking and a fire crackling in the large fireplace in the middle of the house. Mrs Weasley rounded the table where Ron and Harry Potter were sitting, finishing off their breakfast.

“Mum, this is Niamh Wilde,” said Fred, holding her shoulders like he was presenting her to his mother. Mrs Weasley, like all her children, had fiery red hair and brown eyes, she was short and plump and looked very kind and warm.

“Very lovely to meet you, dear. Fred and George have told me so much about you,” she said, cupping Niamh’s face in her hands. “Are you hungry?”

“No, thank you, I’ve already eaten.”

Mrs Weasley nodded and returned to the stove while Fred pushed Niamh into a chair at the table. A sharp pain erupted from her right foot once Fred sat down next to her, one of his chair legs crushing the bones in her toes.

“Ow! Fred,” she hissed, pushing him.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Niamh, you know Harry Potter?” George asked.

Niamh rubbed her foot and looked at the boy sitting across from her. Messy black hair, round glasses and still small and skinny; it was certainly the famous Harry Potter that she’d seen making strides in Quidditch, battling trolls in girls bathrooms and facing Lord Voldemort. He awkwardly waved at her.

“Hello,” she said.

“And Ron,” said Fred, gesturing to his younger brother.

Ron, with his mouth full, simply gave her a smile. He also looked just like his brothers, freckle-faced and red-haired, but unlike Fred and George, he was tall and lanky.

“I’m Percy,” said an older boy at the head of the table. He reached out and shook Niamh’s hand. Proudly sporting a Prefect’s badge and wearing horn-rimmed glasses, he looked just like Ron. “I hear you’re in Ravenclaw.”

“I am, yes.”

“Wonderful house,” he said. “Not as wonderful as Gryffindor, though I’m biased since I am their Prefect, but wonderful nonetheless. A lot of our most brightest witches and wizards come from Ravenclaw.”

At the opposite end of the table, Mr Weasley sat eating his breakfast and reading the paper. Mrs Weasley set down a fresh cup of tea and gave him a nudge. He lifted his head and smiled at Niamh.

“Yes, hello, Niamh,” he said. “How’s your father?”

Mr Weasley and Bran worked together at the Ministry of Magic. Niamh had only met Mr Weasley once before at a Christmas party but she barely remembered.

“He’s well, thank you.” 

He nodded, glancing away for a moment before shaking his head and returning to his paper. Fred elbowed her and handed her a letter.

“We were just looking over our book lists,” he said. “Gotten yours yet?”

She took the letter and looked it over. “Yeah, this morning. I got lucky though because mum already owns all of Lockhart’s books.”

“Does she fancy him too?” George asked before getting a whack on the shoulder by Mrs Weasley.

When they’d finished breakfast and gotten dressed, the twins led Niamh, Ron and Harry to a paddock close to the Burrow and hidden in the hills. They each took turns flying Harry’s Nimbus Two Thousand which was faster than all of their brooms combined. Niamh started to prefer how smooth and quick it was to ride and felt the difference when she rode on her own Comet 260 which wasn’t as top-tier. They walked the rest of the way towards the paddock with their brooms over their shoulders.

“Wish I knew what he was up to,” said Fred, referring to his brother Percy. She’d heard that, like her own brother, Percy had kept himself in his room for most of the summer. “He’s not himself. His exam results came the day before you did, Harry, twelve O.W.L.s and he hardly gloated at all.”

“Ordinary Wizarding Levels,” George explained to Harry. “Bill got twelve, too. If we’re not careful, we’ll have another Head Boy in the family. I don’t think I could stand the shame.”

“The shame? Oh, don’t be so dramatic, George,” Niamh said, rolling her eyes. “If being Head Boy earns him a nice job at the Ministry then let him have it.”

“Well…exactly. But don’t expect us to be working there after Hogwarts.”

Fred laughed. “I guess you’ll be hoping for the Prefect position next year, then Niamh?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she replied.

The twins shared a look and burst out laughing. Niamh ran forward and pushed them in the shoulders which only encouraged them.

* * *

When the summer had ceased and the year brought on spring, it was time for Niamh to return to Hogwarts. The start of a new school year was always an exciting time for Niamh; new books, new curriculum, and now a new set of robes – it all felt like a fresh start.

“Matisse! Oh, for Merlin’s sake-” Matisse didn’t stop to say goodbye, waving over his shoulder and boarding the train. “Niamh, give this to your brother, will you?”

Mireille handed Niamh the cardboard box holding his toad, Beedle. She had to hook it under her arm as she already had her own trunk and Cobweb’s crate to carry. Mireille kissed Niamh on the cheek and fixed one of the buttons that was undone on her cardigan.

“Have a wonderful time,” she said.

Niamh looked down the platform for her father. He was still in conversation with Amos Diggory, Cedric’s father. Cedric was standing by, wishing his mother farewell.

“Don’t wait around for him or you’ll be late for the train. Go on, I’ll give him a kiss for you.”

“Alright, bye Mum.”

She adjusted the box beneath her arm and awkwardly crossed the platform for the train, pulling her luggage inside as she stepped aboard.

“Need some help?”

Niamh lifted her head and found Cedric picking up the end of her trunk. They carried it inside the train and moved in further. The train conductor closed the door behind them.

“Thank you,” Niamh said, blowing out air to catch her breath. She was knocked slightly into the wall behind them as the train jolted forward, billowing smoke down past the windows.

“Niamh!”

She spotted her father quickly walking alongside the train as it pulled itself out of the station.

“You forgot this,” he said, holding out a jar. She reached out and took it from him. He picked up some speed. “I’ll miss you, kid.”

Niamh smiled. “I’ll write to you.”

“You better!”

Her father stopped once he’d reached the end, slicking back his hair and laughing. The train made it’s way out of the platform and into the light, and Niamh watched her father grow smaller and smaller before it rounded a bend.

“What is that?” Cedric asked as Niamh joined him in the corridor.

She held up the jar, showing off what was inside. Sitting on top of some dirt, fitted in with grass and leaves, was a small, pink mushroom with sparse black bristles.

“It’s a Horklump. They started growing in our garden at home. I thought I’d keep one and show it to Professor Sprout.”

Cedric peered closer. “That’s actually cool. Thought of a name for it?”

“Um, no –”

Cedric was suddenly pushed against Niamh as four students came marching down the corridor. A blonde-haired boy laughed as he continued walking, followed by two beefy looking boys and –

“Matisse!” Niamh reached out and grabbed his collar. “Hey!”

“What?!” He shoved her hand away and looked back at his friends, embarrassed.

Niamh frowned. “You forgot your toad.” And she pushed the box into his chest.

He reluctantly took it from her before turning around and following his friends. Niamh recognised the blonde, pointed faced boy as Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin from a proud pureblood family. She’d always heard the rumour that Slytherin turned out more evil wizards than the other houses but she refused to believe they were that bad; then again, she didn’t have any friends from Slytherin to prove otherwise. Niamh just hoped her brother wasn’t falling in with the wrong crowd.

“Sorry,” Niamh said, grabbing her trunk. “Do you want to come sit with us?”

Cedric straightened his jumper. “Thanks, but I’m gonna catch up with Malcolm and Heidi. Malcolm got himself a new broom over the summer and wants to show it off. I might come by later though.”

He squeezed her shoulder, sent her a charming smile, then travelled up the opposite end of the train. Niamh awkwardly squeezed her way down the corridor until she found her friends, Theo, Roger, Fred and George.

“Hey, where’ve you been?” Theo asked, helping her inside. Niamh handed her the jar which she carefully took, looking grossed out at the mushroom inside it.

“Talking with Cedric.” She pushed her trunk onto the rack with a heave and sat down on the seat beside Roger. “He said he might come by later.”

“Niamh, what is this?” Theo handed her back the jar then backed away, wiping her hands on her pants. She sat across from Niamh and Roger, between the twins.

“It’s a Horklump. Hasn’t anyone seen one before?” They all shook their heads and shrugged.

“Thought of a name?” Roger asked, tapping on the glass.

“Um… Lancelot.” It was the first name to come to her head so she stuck with it.

George smirked. “Strong name.”

“Looks like a fun guy,” Roger said, stifling a laugh, looking at everyone for a reaction.

Niamh squinted, giving him a side-eye. “Normally that’d be funny, but Horklumps aren’t a fungus, they’re an animal.”

“Oh come on.” Shocked, he sat back in his seat and crossed his arms, everyone else chuckling at his expense.

The first half of the train ride was spent listening to Theo rave about her summer job, working in a Muggle record shop, and listed off all the new artists she’s discovered because of it. She said that most of her job was to sort through the records and put them on the correct shelves, which everyone else thought was strange, figuring using magic would be quicker and easier than hiring a person to do all the work. But, her work had paid off, as Theo had spent most of the money she earned on clothes and jewellery. She was now sporting multiple silver earrings in her ears and wore a very nice pair of black combat boots.

Cedric also stopped by to say hello, accompanied by his Hufflepuff friends Heidi Macavoy and Malcolm Preece, who showed off his new Silver Arrow. They didn’t stay long; Malcolm wanted to go back to their compartment and make use of his new Broom Servicing Kit.

Not long after that, Lee Jordan came along and convinced the twins to join him in the middle of the train for a very competitive game of Gobstones against some Slytherins, so all who was left in the compartment was the three Ravenclaws. Niamh, Theo and Roger always had the most fun when they were together – they didn’t have to censor their talk of school and homework; of the books they were reading; the rules and regulations of wizards chess, a game they’d each picked up over the summer; topics that would usually get an eye-roll from the twins. They also made theories on who could be their newest Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, concluding that it could be either a fan of Gilderoy Lockhart or the wizard himself; they ate enough sweets to spoil their dinner; then played a few practice games of wizards chess from Roger’s set until the train reached Hogwarts.

* * *

It was clear that Theo’s favourite month of the school year was September. Not only was it exciting to start a fresh, new term and embrace the new learning material of each class, of which Niamh also enjoyed, but it was the only month with no Quidditch. She had Roger and Niamh all to herself, without the distraction of practise or team rivalry between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Keen to embrace the Quidditch-free period, the three of them spent their free time staying up late in the common room to do their homework, studying in the library during lunch, and practising spells on the lawns. Theo reminded the pair of how hard they’ll have to work in their fifth year for their O.W.L examinations and thought it wise to start mastering both the theory and practical sides of each of their classes earlier rather than later. If it weren’t for their love and dedication for hard work and study, they’d have given up in the first week and spent September lounging about like Fred and George.

Most of their Charms revision was spent outside, where they were less likely to get hurt when performing the Exploding Charm or the Banishing Charm. Niamh mastered the Summoning Charm by conjuring the food Roger was about to eat or the book Theo was in the middle of reading. In Transfiguration, Theo was the only one to transform a hedgehog into a pincushion on the first try while it took Roger a few lessons yet, by the end of the month, Niamh’s pincushion still had a snout. Niamh’s lessons in Care of Magical Creatures were her most enjoyable. Professor Kettleburn had his students study Streelers, large snails whose shell changed into kaleidoscopic colours and its slime poisonous. Niamh was tempted to keep one as a pet but Fred managed to talk her out of it for Theo’s sake. Theo’s aversion to anything small and slimy was one of the few things that separated her and Niamh, especially disliking the fact that Niamh insisted on keeping her creepy crawling pets on the windowsill between their beds. In Potions, Professor Snape started the year off by having his students perfect brewing antidotes before his attempt at poisoning an unlucky student to test its effectiveness. Niamh knew a lot about the certain ingredients in antidotes but struggled in her attempts at applying them, and under Snape’s watchful eye, she feared she’d be his first victim. 

To no one’s surprise, Gilderoy Lockhart was Hogwarts newest Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. He was a pompous, extravagant man who had captured every girl’s hearts; Niamh and Theo found him insufferable with his constant bragging and know-it-all attitude.

“You’re lying if you say you don’t find him charming,” said Angelina Johnson. “Haven’t you seen his smile?”

It was last weekend of September and after all their focused attention on their studies, Niamh and the gang travelled into Hogsmeade with the rest of the fourth years. They settled around a table in the corner of the Three Broomsticks, drinking Butterbeer, showing off their newest purchases, and discussing how Professor Lockhart’s lessons seemed to have become his own personal fan club.

“Of course I’ve seen his smile; I don’t think he can actually do anything else. I just find him slimy.” Theo rolled her shoulders in discomfort before taking another sip of her butterbeer.

Fred and Roger, who were in the middle of a game of Exploding Snap, were yelled at by Madam Rosmerta, threatening to kick them out if they let one more card explode. As Fred grudgingly put the cards back in his bag, Niamh took the opportunity to sprinkle Belching Powder into his butterbeer. Theo clamped her mouth shut while George gave her a knowing look, smirking.

“Cockroach Cluster, anyone?” she said, offering the bag. She tried her best to keep a straight face once Fred turned back to the table. “I also bought Chocolate Frogs and Fudge Flies.”

“She likes insects that are both alive and as sweets,” Roger laughed, shaking his head. He took a Fudge Fly for himself. Fred then took a sip from his butterbeer, happily unaware of what was due to happen. Niamh turned away, covering her mouth to stifle her laughter. Everyone else waited with anticipation and finally, Fred gulped and let out a loud burp. The table erupted with laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.

“What-” Fred let out another burp, except this one went longer. He had to close his mouth and cover it to stop himself.

“You can’t hold it in Freddie,” George said.

Fred’s eyes centred on Niamh and he pointed. “You.” He couldn’t say much else without emitting a loud belch, his laughter only making it worse. Much to his relief, they began to fade away on the walk back to Hogwarts.

Theo hadn’t turned off ‘study mode’ and continued perusing her Divination textbook while Roger held onto her shoulders as to steer her away from any obstacles in her path. George and Angelina were in deep conversation about the upcoming Quidditch season, and as Niamh overheard, their captain Oliver Wood had come up with a new training programme.

“Was that pay-back, was it?” Fred asked, nudging Niamh gently in her side. “I never thought you for the pranking type.”

“Well, you know, what’s the point of buying Belching Powder if you’re not going to use it. And pranks are fine, I guess if they don’t hurt anyone. Theo, Roger and I went all out last year but had to call it when Theo burned a hole in her tongue from an Acid Pop.”

Fred chuckled. “I did that to Ron once when I was seven.”

“Hey, Wilde!”

Niamh looked in the direction of the voice. Randolph Burrow came striding towards her with Jeremy Stretton following closely behind. Niamh guessed that whatever Randolph wanted with her wasn’t going to be pleasant.

“I hope you’ve been doing some extra Quidditch training over the summer,” he said. He turned around and walked backwards in front of her, hands in his pockets and sporting a smug grin. “I’m trying out for Chaser again this year, so no hard feelings, yeah?”

He laughed and walked away without giving Niamh a chance to retort. Jeremy gave Niamh a look that could only mean he didn’t want to be a part of whatever game Randolph was pulling.

“The bloody nerve on that git,” said Fred, watching Randolph walk away with a face full of disgust. He looked down at her. “You’ll show him, Niamh.”

She just smiled and they caught up with the rest of the group. If there was one thing Niamh was good at, it was self-doubt. Even after all her accomplishments in her third year, helping the Ravenclaw team win when she’d been knocked in the head by Bludger, she still managed to let Randolph get to her. Perhaps she was a good player, but maybe he was better. Maybe he’d trained harder over the summer to earn back the spot that Niamh stole. But if there was another thing Niamh was good at, it was being stubborn. Even if Randolph turned out to be a better player, she was not going to let him steal her place on that team.


	6. Chapter 6

October arrived cold and damp. Ravenclaw’s captain, Dillon White, was as miserable as the weather when he discovered Oliver Wood got the jump on him, starting Gryffindor’s training early last month. Gathered at the table in the Great Hall with the rest of the team, Dillon looked as if he hadn’t slept in days; his hair was sticking out in all directions and his eyes were heavy. He fiddled with his knife, spinning it around on the table until his girlfriend, Leah Gresley, was so fed up with it that she snatched it from him and urged him to spit out whatever it was that had him so wound up.

“Alright,” he sat up, “I’m not going to beat around the bush. Oliver’s good. He was smart enough to start his team training early which means Gryffindor have an advantage.”

“Slytherin are the ones with the advantage,” Roger said. “Have you seen their new brooms?”

Dillon put up a hand. “Don’t even get me started.”

Slytherin had a new Seeker on their side: Draco Malfoy. Not only that, but Draco’s father had bought the entire team brand new Nimbus Two-Thousand and Ones, which, by what the twins say, was just a means of buying Draco onto the team. Sure, Slytherin had an advantage with their new state-of-the-art, Snitch speed brooms but Draco Malfoy was no match for Harry Potter.

“For now, I’m keeping the team the way it is. We’re having trials this Saturday and whoever shows up, I’ll have them play against you in a real game. I’ll sort out the best and strongest amongst them and make some improvements to the team.”

No one at the table liked what they heard; they scoffed and looked at each other in disbelief.

“What the hell do you mean _improvements_?” said Leah, glaring at him.

Dillon sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Look, we’ve got a great team already but if there’s some second year in our midst that can catch a Snitch faster than Harry Potter, then I want them.”

Niamh then bared witness to the greasiest looks on Leah’s face. She grabbed her cereal bowl and tipped it onto Dillon’s lap before storming out of the Great Hall.

“Nice one, Dillon,” Jeremy said, stifling a laugh. Beside him, Randolph snickered into his fist.

Dillon made no effort to clean himself up. “No hard feelings, guys, alright? I _just_ want to win the cup this year.” He stood up, looking defeated, and went after his girlfriend. Beaters Jason and Duncan followed suit, grabbing their books and bags in a heap in their arms and walked off to class.

Randolph happily drummed his hands on the table, swinging himself off the chair.

“I suppose we’ll see who gets the top spot on Saturday, right Niamh? If Dillon’s looking for the best, he’ll get the best.” He leaned forward. “I’m talking about myself, obviously.”

Niamh rolled her eyes and looked away. Overnight, she’d prepared herself for more of Randolph’s intimidation tactics and decided she wasn’t going to stoop to his level. Instead of standing up and giving him what he wanted by quarrelling with him on who was the better player, she simply agreed that she was better so it wasn’t worth it. However, it took all her willpower to fight the temptation and not slap that smirk right off his face.

“Knock it off, Burrow, alright?” Roger sneered.

Randolph winked at Niamh, chuckled and strode out of the Great Hall. He passed Theo on his way out, who was walking quickly over to the table, holding a tissue under her nose.

“Feeling better?” Niamh asked as she sat down across from them.

Red-nosed and teary-eyed, Theo was fighting off the end of a cold; one that had made its way through the school. She sniffed, wiping her nose.

“Not really.” Her voice sounded funny with her nose blocked. “I’m just going to have something to eat before I see Madam Pomfrey. She’s made a Pepperup Potion. ACHOO!”

Niamh and Roger recoiled as Theo sneezed across the table. She quickly wiped her nose and apologized.

“Maybe you should eat on the way,” Roger said. “I’ll take you, come on. I’ll meet you in the forest, Niamh.”

Theo grabbed a few slices of buttered toast and left the Hall with Roger, who’d put an arm around her shoulders. Once they were out of sight, Niamh returned to her porridge. As she ate, she looked around the Hall, realising just how ignorant she’s been to the others around her; she’s never eaten breakfast by herself before. Across the Hall, Fred and George were eating with their brothers and their sister, Ginny, who’d just started her first year. By the looks of it, she was nervous and sat off a little to the side of her brothers. Niamh understood how she was feeling, her first few months at Hogwarts were frightening and if it hadn’t have been for Roger, she never would have found her way out of the dungeons.

Niamh looked down the table in hopes of seeing her brother so she could sit and eat with him but the only people she saw were a small group of first-years, talking quietly amongst themselves, two of Matisse’s friends (who, she assumed, he was no longer talking with as he hadn’t been seen with them since last year), and Levana Spencer, a girl in the same year as Niamh and with whom she shared a dorm. Levana was mechanically spooning cereal into her mouth, preoccupied with the book open in front of her. Her dark, wavy hair flowed down her back with two thin braids at the front, blue ribbons woven into them. Grabbing her bag, Niamh slid her bowl down the table and shifted down the seats until she was opposite Levana. She hadn’t noticed Niamh’s presence, absorbed in her book. Niamh leaned forward to discover she was reading about Ghouls, probably one of Professor Lockhart’s required textbooks.

“Do you think he really did all those things?” Niamh asked.

Levana lifted her head and blinked at her. “Pardon?”

“Um,” she gave a nervous laugh, “I said do you think he really did all those things? The things he wrote about.”

“Oh! Well, probably not.” She closed the textbook and fiddled with the ribbon bookmark. “He talks about them as if he was the bravest wizard in the world to deal with them but Ghouls are harmless things.”

Niamh laughed. “Yeah, I doubt he’s ever battled a werewolf when he can’t even handle Cornish pixies.” When Levana smiled, her eyes closed and her nose crinkled – it was so infectious, Niamh smiled even wider. She wondered why they’d never spoken like this before, as friends rather than classmates. On the few occasions that they have spoken, it was usually in passing or during a class; and even during those interactions, Niamh always liked her. Besides the classroom or the common room, Levana was found walking around the halls with her head in a book or dressing up in odd costumes and having picnics with her friends. Niamh assumed it some kind of club she was in. There were four members including Levana and three girls from each of the other houses. “So, do you want to walk to class together?”

“…and every week it’s a different theme. Sometimes it’s hard to find something to wear but we make it work.” Niamh had asked Levana about her club, The Cloves, as they passed the Black Lake on their way to the Forbidden Forest. She was disappointed to discover that they weren’t taking any new members into their book club but Levana offered to ask the other girls. “Well, the name uses the letters of our name, you see C, for Clementine; L, for Levana; V, for Victoria; and S, for Sasha.”

“You know, you could have called yourselves The Calves and dressed up like deer,” Niamh said, making herself laugh. Levana didn’t find it quite so funny but smiled anyway. Niamh’s laughter quickly died away and they walked in silence for a few seconds until someone crashed into Niamh’s side and put their arm across her shoulders.

“Morning.” It was Cedric, catching his breath. “You girls walk very quickly. Hey, Niamh.” He squeezed her into his body, grinning.

“Hey,” she replied. “Cedric, do you know Levana?”

He walked in front of the girls and extended his hand towards Levana. She blushingly grinned and shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Levana.” _Such a prince_ , Niamh thought. It wasn’t that Cedric acted like one, he simply embodied one with his natural charm, good looks, and good manners.

“Lev,” she said, laughing nervously. “I like Lev.”

Cedric nodded, let go of her hand and stepped back into pace with Niamh.

“What were you two talking about?” he asked.

“Nothing in particular. Where’s Fred and George?”

He adjusted the bag strap on his shoulder. “On their way. I think they’re making sure Ginny gets to class alright.”

Joining the rest of the class, they waited for Professor Kettleburn on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Niamh peered through the trees, attempting to get a sneak peek at whatever creature their professor had planned for them. Despite how light it was outside, the forest was perpetually dark, due to its mysterious and dangerous nature. Niamh could barely see a thing, but she could hear a slight rustling in the leaves. She inched her head forward to listen and –

“Ah!”

Professor Kettleburn leapt from the trees and the class recoiled from fright.

“Good morning!” he bellowed. There was nothing tame about Kettleburn, with his wild white hair and the wacky look in his one eye not covered by a patch. “Is everyone here?”

When he peered over their heads, the class whirled to look in the same direction. Fred and George were sprinting down the hills towards them, laughing and pushing each other in an attempt to win. They were just as fast as each other and crashed into the back of Niamh and Cedric.

“Wonderful! Follow me.”

After a few more introductions, the five of them followed the rest of the class further into the cool, dark forest. Niamh kept back with Cedric and George in case Roger caught up, while Fred and Lev paired up and walked ahead.

“She’s friends with those weird girls, isn’t she?” George asked, gesturing to Lev.

“They’re not weird,” Niamh said, elbowing him.

“They’re always together, whispering and, I swear, I heard them chanting while they were sitting by the lake. There’s something strange about them.”

Cedric laughed. “What were they chanting?”

“Not sure, but it was probably something like ‘ _cut their flesh and drink their blood, all hail the darkness_ ’!” George said with a deep, gruff voice. Niamh burst out laughing which caught Lev and Fred’s attention. She and George straightened their faces and pretended as nothing had happened.

Professor Kettleburn gathered his students in a small clearing amongst the trees. Grinning with excitement, he put his one hand and one claw on his hips.

“Unicorns!” Everyone jumped. “Magnificent creatures, they are. Ah, just in time, Davies.”

Roger joined the semi-circle, giving Niamh a wink and a nudge.

“How’s Theo?” Niamh whispered.

“Smoking,” he chuckled. “Literally. You should see her.”

“Alright, you two, pay attention now.” Professor Kettleburn waved the class forward then pointed towards another opening in the trees. Peering in closer, a pure white Unicorn stood tall and beautiful beside a pond from which it was drinking. “Before we approach for closer observation, I want to ask you all a few questions. Who can tell me the uses us magical folk have for these majestic equines?”

Niamh went to raise her hand before Kettleburn had even finished asking the question but Lev was faster.

“We use Unicorn hair in wand-making and their horns and tail-hair in restorative potions.”

“Yes! Well done, ten points-”

Roger raised his hand next. “And their blood is used to keep a person near death alive.”

Professor Kettleburn looked stunned by his fast answer but nonetheless impressed and issued out twenty points to Ravenclaw. Lev glared at Roger to which he responded with a pleased smirk.

Roger and Lev continued to compete against each other as the smartest student for the rest of the lesson, though it seemed Roger was only doing it to annoy Lev, not to flaunt his intelligence. Lev was obviously bothered but ignored him and spoke only to Niamh. The lesson ended early when Fred and George caused the Unicorn to rear and run further into the forest by simply approaching it. Kettleburn set the class an essay on the uses of Unicorn horns and sent them on their way back to Hogwarts for an early lunch.

“Is he always that annoying?” Lev asked as they trekked back up to the castle. The boys marched up ahead of them, joking and knocking each other about. She stared, her eyes burning holes in the back of Roger’s head.

Niamh chuckled. “Oh yeah, but I think he was only trying to wind you up. He’s actually pretty nice once you get to know him.”

Lev huffed. “You draw, don’t you? I’ve seen a few of your sketches when you weren’t looking.”

“I enjoy it, yeah. Why?”

“Sasha paints and she’s quite good, too. I think you’d like her. And Clementine is about as good an expert on Quidditch as you and Victoria’s got your same kind of humour. I really think you’d fit in with us.” She looked at Niamh as if she was proud of her. “What made you decide to finally talk to me?”

Niamh didn’t dare tell her it was because she had nobody else to talk to. Lev might be assertive and a little grand in some ways, but she’s also kind, smart and is a member of a very cool, exclusive club. Niamh would love nothing more than to talk about books all day and, by the sounds of it, draw with Sasha, talk about Quidditch with Clementine, and have Victoria laugh at her corny jokes; she’d never met any of these girls before but they sounded great. However, it wasn’t as if she didn’t already have friends with whom she could do all those things with; perhaps it was just the prospect of enjoying those hobbies with new people who hadn’t yet made an opinion about her.

“I think I’ve always wanted to talk to you but never had the perfect opportunity,” she said. This pleased Lev and she hooked her arm into Niamh’s.

“I’ll talk to the girls and see if they’ll let you join. We could call ourselves the… uh… The Vulcans.”

“Thank you, but wouldn’t having two Ravenclaws just throw everything off?”

“I think it should be fine. You’ll really love it, I promise. And the girls are really sweet and-”

They’d reached the Entrance Hall where Theo was waiting for them. Her eyes were only slightly puffy and some smoke was still flowing out of her ears.

“You got out early, perfect!” she said, welcoming them inside. “I managed to skip Ancient Runes while I let the potion do its magic.”

“Theo Travers skipping class on purpose?” Fred asked.

“Is the sky falling?” George added.

“You missed out, Theo,” Roger said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Kettleburn had us studying a Unicorn. Lev is an expert on them, isn’t that right?”

Everyone had turned to look at Levana and she seemed to shrink.

“Well, I’m not complaining,” said Niamh, giving her an encouraging smile. “She’s earned Ravenclaw enough points to get us a head start in winning the House Cup.”

Fred scoffed. “You wish.”

“Yeah, keep dreaming, Niamh,” Cedric said, smirking. “This is Hufflepuff’s year.”

That caused an uproar from the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. They entered the Great Hall for lunch shouting over one another in an attempt to defend their houses and boast about their Quidditch talents. Eventually, they’d calmed down and joined their respective tables. Lev sat with Niamh and did her best to keep only her attention while eating. Theo and Roger were sitting opposite them, trying to get a word in, but to no avail. Niamh had gotten the sense from Lev that she liked her better than her other friends. She certainly got that impression whenever Theo tried talking to her and Lev would offer a forced smile and go on pretending as if she hadn’t spoken. Lev listed the books they’d read and explained that though there weren’t many fiction books in the Hogwarts library, Clementine Larke’s mother worked at a second-hand bookshop in Diagon Alley and would lend them copies of each book. Niamh did love the idea of The Cloves; reading a new book every week and dressing up in theme to discuss their thoughts, but she felt Lev only extended the invitation to join because she wanted her spending less time with Roger and Theo. With the Quidditch trials coming up that weekend and actual games to prepare for, Niamh just wouldn’t have the time and, though reluctant, politely declined. That was if Niamh still had a spot to prepare for if Randolph Burrows didn’t steal it from her first.

* * *

“I told you that girl was weird,” said George as they made their way down to the Quidditch pitch on Saturday. “Theo told me she was fawning over you all week.”

Niamh rolled her eyes. “She was not! We were just getting to know each other better, that’s all.”

Lev and Niamh had become an inseparable pair over the course of the week. They studied together, walked to class together, ate every meal together, all the while Lev talked Niamh’s ear off about the club and asked her all kinds of questions about Cedric. Niamh never liked talking about boys that much so she changed the subject to Herbology and that had them talking for hours. Unlike Theo, Lev loved Herbology and magical creatures as much as Niamh and very much admired her Horklump Lancelot. However, like Theo, when the subject of Quidditch came up, Lev lost interest and brought up Cedric again.

“Looks like Niamh’s found herself a new best friend, Theo,” Fred said. Niamh punched him in the shoulder, making him cackle.

“I doubt it,” Theo replied. “I overheard you two when you were studying together last night. Niamh, it sounds like nothing has ever made her laugh in her entire life.”

Roger let out a loud hoot. “Or, you know, maybe Niamh just isn’t that funny.” He ran away laughing when Niamh started towards him. “Kidding, Niamh! You and that vein in your head will rule the world one day, I swear.”

“I’m actually surprised she isn’t here, cheering you on,” Theo said.

“She doesn’t like Quidditch.” After handing Theo her broom, Niamh pulled on her leather gloves and began fastening her robes. She was suddenly knocked in the shoulder by someone as they passed her. “Oi!”

Randolph turned around. “Sorry about that, Wilde, didn’t see you there; you’re just so small. You know, I’m surprised Dillon put you on the team in the first place. Chasers are supposed to be tall and strong, not short and skinny. Do us all a favour and wait till you grow up before you-”

“Do you ever shut up?” Fred said, stepping towards him.

Randolph smiled. “Oh come on, Weasley, don’t you agree? After what happened last season, I would’ve thought you’d-”

“Maybe we should shut him up ourselves,” said George, curling his fist.

Niamh pulled Fred back by his sleeve then looked up at George. “It’s alright.”

“It sounds to me like you’re scared of losing out, Randolph,” Theo said.

“Scared? Please,” he laughed.

“She got your spot last year and she’ll do it again.”

Putting his broom over his shoulder, he turned back around. “We’ll see about that.”

Dillon was already in a bad mood when the whole team and those trying out had gathered on the pitch. It was his last year at Hogwarts so he wanted to make this season count and win the Cup by any means possible. Leah had seemed to forgiven him since he threatened her spot, or they were at least on speaking terms again. She looked about as determined as her boyfriend as it was her final year also.

“Alright team, gather round! Looks like we’ve got a pretty good turn out this year. I’ll run some drills to start us off, see what positions everyone is comfortable in then have ourselves a practice match. This is our year, Ravenclaw. Get out there and show me what you’ve got.”

Dillon was certainly harder on the team this year than previously but it only encouraged Niamh to play better than Randolph. He showed off during the drills, pulling off impossible moves just to gain Dillon’s attention; and it was working. Niamh continued to remind herself not to let Randolph get to her, to ignore his slights, to feel confident in herself and the fact that Dillon thought her good enough to replace him last year, to be the better player. _You might be small, but you’re quick_ , she thought.

Finally, it was time for the original players to play against those trying out. Dillon kept the players he deemed good enough for the second round of trials. He had enough players to make a second team, including Randolph. When they stood ready over their brooms, Niamh looked at Randolph. He wore the same smug grin that he had all week and all Niamh wanted was to win. She’d let the pressure get to her, but it didn’t matter – Niamh was keeping her spot.

She tried her best to keep out of Randolph’s way and focus on her own playing and found it ironic that the one thing he criticized about her was her size and that it’d become the reason he never caught her. She always managed to escape his clutches whenever she had the Quaffle, making him so frustrated that he stopped showing off for Dillon and focused entirely on interfering with Niamh’s performance. But she started to get cocky, deliberately flying in his direction, only to swerve in the other direction or swoop beneath him.

Roger had scored another goal past the other team’s Keeper, Grant Page, and Niamh started off again with the Quaffle. Chambers, the opposing Chaser, blocked her path with his imposing stature. She rounded towards the other end of the pitch to make a wider course towards the goal. On her turn, she quickly noticed Randolph barrelling towards her, eyes narrowed and cheeks reddened. She dived downwards to avoid him crashing into her and her broom suddenly went limp in her hands. She slipped off her broom, felt weightless for a few seconds until she met the ground with a hard, heavy thump. The pain was unbearable. It felt as if something excruciatingly sharp had been stabbed through her collarbone. Still clutching the Quaffle, Niamh curled into herself as the pain turned into a gruelling, throbbing ache. Tears started to sting her eyes so she squeezed them shut, feeling only the hot, stabbing pain.

“Niamh!” It was Roger’s voice. He crashed down beside her and gently held her other shoulder. The rest of the team landed around her, making a loud commotion.

“What the hell was that, Burrow?!” Dillon cried.

“What? It was an accident; I was trying to cut her off!”

Roger leaned down and said quietly, “Are you alright?”

Gritting her teeth, Niamh could only shake her head. She opened her eyes and tears fell down her cheeks. Her collarbone was definitely broken; she’d never felt anything so painful.

“Can you move? Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital wing.”

“What happened?” Theo was running across the pitch with Fred and George following. Roger and Dillon slowly helped Niamh stand as she held her left arm up across her body. The searing pain made her tense her jaw so hard, she thought she’d break her teeth too.

“Burrow was trying to take out my best player,” Dillon said.

“What?!” said Fred.

“I said it was an accident!”

Roger scoffed. “Yeah right, I saw you grab her broom!”

Theo had to quickly step in front of Fred to stop him from jumping on Randolph. George took Dillon’s place beside Niamh, putting one hand on her back and the other on her arm to help hold it against her chest.

“Get her up to the hospital wing; I’ll sort this out,” said Dillon, his voice cracking. Niamh kept her head down, not wanting to see any kind of expression on Randolph’s face. The mere thought of him being proud of what he did made her want to cry even harder. She tightened her grip on Roger’s hand as he and George walked her up to the castle, Theo leading the way and Fred swearing and insulting Randolph Burrow. 

Niamh walked out of the hospital wing a few hours later with her arm in a sling and the upsetting realisation that she wouldn’t be able to play Quidditch till after Christmas. Randolph had gotten what he wanted and had knocked Niamh off the team, whether or not that had earned him the spot was still up in the air. She only hoped Dillon had the sense not to allow a cheating player like that stay on the team.

“I saw what he did, that git,” Roger sneered while walking back to the common room. “He grabbed Niamh’s broom and yanked it out from under her. He knew what he was doing; just to get a spot back on the team.”

“Honestly, how can someone be that desperate to play Quidditch?” Theo said. “To do a dirty thing like that?”

“He should be banned for doing that,” George said.

“I’ll make him banned for life by breaking both of his arms next time I see him,” Fred grumbled.

Niamh didn’t say a word, her aching throat wouldn’t let her. She was on the verge of tears and just wanted to go up to bed and wallow in the fact that some jealous boy couldn’t earn his own spot on the team with his skills but had to sabotage the competition. Fred tried cheering her up but he was so angry himself that his heart wasn’t in it, and Niamh was too depressed to let it work. In the end, all she did was thank her friends for having her back and shut herself up in her dormitory for the rest of the day.


End file.
